


a change in perspective

by kryze



Series: king's collar [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies), White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kid Eggsy, Mentor/Protégé, Pickpocketing, Pre-Canon, Switchy-aroundy-thingy, on hiatus til may, younger neal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:22:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4885342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kryze/pseuds/kryze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal Caffrey is beautiful, successful, on the verge of twenty-three, on the run from all kinds of law enforcement agencies...</p><p>...and pickpocketed by a little, blonde nine-or-so-year-old. </p><p>Enter Eggsy Unwin- just turned ten, thank you very much- from the estates and slipped a wallet from one of the greatest white collar criminals that's ever walked the earth. </p><p>Even if he didn't exactly know that last one at the time.</p><p> </p><p>[part 1/2 now complete]</p>
            </blockquote>





	a change in perspective

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: un-beta read, pre-canon, alternate universe from canon

  

Neal Caffrey is beautiful, on the verge of twenty-three, successful in his world… and on the run from all kinds of international law enforcement agencies.

 

He’s what the feds call a ‘white collar criminal’, which means he pulls high class jobs; siphoning millions from big corporations, conning jewels and art from museums, creating new identities for himself on a whim. He’s the best at what he does and unfortunately, that comes with consequences- he’s never in one place for more than a few months, even a few days or weeks sometimes.

 

For now, he’s in London- South London to be specific. It’s the lower class area of the city, where there are drug deals around every corner and there isn't enough money going around for anyone to easily access the finer things in life. Thus, no one will even think to look for him here for a very long time and that’s just the way he likes it. What he doesn’t like, on the other hand, is that it’s South London. And he has to look the part.

 

Ratty secondhand jeans, beat-up secondhand t-shirt and a pair of trainers that look like they’ve been to hell and back. It certainly isn’t the worst he’s ever dressed in, but certainly not the best either. After the life of glamour and excitement that he’s used to being in, this is a slap back to reality, a chance to experience the lows of 'the real world' once more.

 

At least it’s only another couple of weeks that he has to stake out here before moving on and leaving the CIA, MI6 and Interpol with no trace. Speaking of law enforcement though, it’s Burke the Jerk’s birthday soon, so Neal makes a note to send off a card from Auckland sometime. It’s the first location that pops into his head and it’s far, far away from London, so he’ll probably be safe for quite some time while the idiots investigate the land of sheep and he’s in a completely other continent, across at least two oceans.

 

He actually quite likes his neighbours here, unlike in Budapest; they’re all rather communal and everyone tries to make connections within the block so that if there are any surprise inspections from the high-horse inspectors from the Yard or oddly-escalated abuse going on with the gangs and drug runners, there’s always someone to run to. A lot of the flats house single mothers with children and by Jove, does Neal love children.

 

They’re so eager and innocent, yet hardened and resilient. They look at the world from a completely different perspective; one more full of wonder, even as they’re just as jaded. Life has surely not dealt them a fair hand, not here.

 

One of the cheeky things even manages to pickpocket him on his third day there, though the kid clearly has some morals and taps him on the side as he walks back over to return it, money and all. It’s probably the first time Neal’s ever been given something back that was so expertly pick-pocketed from his person, and he considers himself one of the best- for good reason.

 

The kid is small, blonde and blue-eyed- probably ten or eleven at most. He has a spark of mischief and intelligence in his baby blues and Neal can already tell that he’d be the perfect student; just the right balance of intuitive and curious, both free-willed and willing to listen. Unfortunately, the kid sprints away before Neal can even catch a name. He throws himself over the railing and lands after a picture-perfect forward roll onto the ground, freerunning his way back to wherever he came from.

 

It’s a pity. Neal would’ve loved spending some quality time with that kid. Especially learning how on God’s green earth he managed to pull one over on Neal-freaking-Caffrey.

 

* * *

 

So maybe it’s fate that not even four days later, he runs into a little blonde blur at a corner-shop not even two blocks away from his flat.

 

“Hey, you’re that kid that picked my wallet off me.”

 

The little blonde thing looks up at him, panic and fear running rampant in his eyes. “I’m real sorry bruv, but I gave it back ’n’ everythin’.”

 

“No, no,” Neal placates him, “I was pretty impressed there, kid. What’s your name?”

 

“Eggsy,” Eggsy says proudly, looking at Neal with a bit more trust now that he knows that he isn’t going to get beat up or something like that. It makes him feel sick to his stomach to think that this kid expects to be hit for whatever he does, like it’s the norm.

 

“Eggsy,” he tries it out for himself. It’s quirky, unique. Somehow it fits the image of the clever, light-fingered kid he’s turned over in his head for the past few days, “I’m Neal.”

 

The kid nods, probably storing it away under some silly moniker like 'that silly American I pickpocketed the other day'. “So what’d you want?” He finally says.

 

“Who says I want something?” Neal throws back, slightly surprised by Eggsy's immediately thinking that he's wanting something, but covering it up nicely with an easy flash of his pearly whites.

 

Eggsy looks up at him suspiciously once again. “People like you don’t just introduce you to people like me without wanting somethin’.”

 

“Fair enough.” Neal tells him. He’s been on the other end of that plenty of times to understand. It’s just sad how a kid as young as this has learned it too. “I just want to talk. Maybe I can learn something from you. Maybe you can learn something else from me.” No one ever goes for 'I just want to talk'. Neal’s smart enough to introduce an incentive to the equation; maybe Eggsy realises that there really is something that Neal can teach him and Neal knows that he has knowledge of all kinds of cons in spades. The gleam of mischief and mystery makes its way into his eyes and in that second, he knows he’s convinced the boy.

 

Eggsy just nods at him. “Ryan told me where you were. Said you were alright.” And then turns tail and leaves, just like the first time they met. Neal’s surprised; he never expected a sweet, quiet boy like Ryan to be in the acquaintance of such a firecracker like Eggsy. Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised him, Eggsy was just one of those people who you couldn’t help but want to be around. His sheer presence was captivating.

 

Neal gets the feeling that he’ll be seeing him again. Hopefully Eggsy decides it'll be sooner as opposed to later.

 

* * *

 

There is another week’s crushing monotony until Eggsy finally makes his third appearance.

 

In his boredom, Neal had already cased a few museums in the city, taking the National Rail until he got into Waterloo, where he hopped on the Tube and successfully hid his face from all of the CCTV on the Underground- quite the accomplishment. There are probably a couple thousand in the stations alone, not to mention in the carriages.

 

The Victoria and Albert Museum turned out to have a few things worth nabbing and being able to see Piccadilly was all the better; the heart of London was truly full of life, energy and beautiful architecture. He also went to the Natural History Museum just for kicks, and a pleasant surprise of some  rare gemstones awaited him. There are quite a few rich snobs with geology hobbies who would pay a pretty penny for some of those, he knows. Neal makes a note to come back later for further exploration.

 

When he gets back after another exhausting round of expertly dodging cameras- keeping his head low, using the collar of his coat to hide the bottom half of his face and making creative use of his hat to hide the top half- Eggsy’s waiting for him in his apartment.

 

In response to Neal’s extreme reaction of shock to see a little blonde kid lounging on his sofa, Eggsy just shrugs as if he does it everyday. Neal double-checks his lock to examine for any signs of tampering, but when he finds none, he turns a questioning gaze on Eggsy. The boy waves a lazy hand at the window along his back wall and Neal gives him an impressed smirk and nod.

 

“Through the window, huh? I guess I didn’t expect that from a kid your age.”

 

“No one does, bruv.” Eggsy smiles smugly. “That’s why it works so well.”

 

“Ever bother knocking?” Neal teases, relaxing and going through his usual routine of throwing his coat and hat on their hooks and absentmindedly ruffling his hair up a bit for something more casual.

 

“Nah,” Eggsy replies, “too obvious.”

 

“Fair enough.” Neal laughs. “You know how to pick locks?”

 

The boy grins embarrassedly. “Guess that’s the other reason why I didn’t come in through the front door, yeah?”

 

Neal sniggers. “Nice, kid. C’mere. I’ll show you.”

 

“Really?” Eggsy pretty much glows with excitement. Neal would probably be right if he said the kid never had a real teacher in these matters. “‘Course. I’m supposed to be a master, after all.” He winks.

 

Eggsy giggles and makes his way over to the older man, right in front of the front door.

 

“Now this one is pretty easy to pick, I’ll show you how to do it first and then you can give it a go…”

 

* * *

 

The door to Neal’s flat slams open and he jerks awake in his painful position on the couch, wide-eyed with panic.

 

But it’s only- “Hey Neal!” Eggsy says excitedly, vibrating with excitement.

 

Neal lets out a slow, relieved breath, sinking back onto uncomfortable couch cushions in a more comfortable sprawl. “Jeez kid, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” he admonishes the boy lightly, “but I see you’ve managed to get past my door all on your own.”

 

Eggsy beams at the praise, fidgeting with the hairpin he used to jimmy the lock. “Yeah,” he shrugs modestly, “I just needed some practice.”

 

“Well, you know what they say, kid.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, _practice makes perfect_.” Eggsy rolls his eyes and Neal chuckles, levering himself up from the couch to ruffle Eggsy’s hair before the kid can even think to dodge.

 

“So,” Neal says as he goes back to his domination of the sofa cushions and leaving Eggsy nowhere to sit but the floor or that one particularly uncomfortable armchair, “what’re you doing here? Not that I don’t want you to be coming over or anything, but-”

 

“Yeah...” Eggsy replies awkwardly, frowning at his options and choosing to sit atop Neal instead. Neal groans, having completely forgotten about _this_ outcome of the situation. “I know Dean’s gotten into some bad shit-”

 

“ _Language_.” Neal automatically nags.

 

“-I mean _stuff_ ,” Eggsy corrects himself, rolling his eyes, “and I just wanted to get outta the house, yeah? This was the only place I could think of.”

 

Neal sighs, feeling his mood drop with the news. He’s been semi-aware of Eggsy’s stepfather tip-toeing through the shadier areas of business- _his_ areas of business- but before, he wasn’t a whole lot to take note of. Now, if Eggsy saw fit to stay out of the way of Dean’s ‘work meetings’ or whatever, it might be time for Neal Caffrey to stick his nose into whatever’s happening in London’s underbelly.

 

* * *

 

Drugs.

 

Because of _course_ drugs are happening.

 

Neal sighs exasperatedly at the file Mozzie sent him earlier that week. It turns out that Dean Baker runs a modestly-sized neighbourhood drug-running… _thing_.

 

At least he hasn’t recruited Eggsy into it, Neal thinks gratefully as he storms purposefully back to his flat. Eggsy had been staying there for most nights out of the week lately and he… actually really needs to get groceries before heading home.

 

Neal stops by a Tesco Express.

 

* * *

 

When he gets home, Eggsy’s not there. It’s not a big deal or anything; the kid comes and goes whenever he wants to, and whether or not that involves informing Neal about it, well. Suffice to say, sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t.

 

But Eggsy had promised to stay for dinner earlier that afternoon. They were going to make pasta and do nefarious, thievery-related things.

 

Plans change, Neal thinks, sighing disappointedly. Even though he wasn't going to have such an exciting evening, he might as well make pasta anyways. Frying some onions and garlic in a pan before pouring store-bought sauce in is all he really has the energy to do right now, and it usually comes out tasting well enough. Cooking for himself just seems like a huge chore. _Everything_ seems like a huge chore nowadays and he doesn’t know why.

 

But when Neal’s done with dinner, something’s not sitting right in his stomach. It might be Tesco’s subpar tomato sauce or the packaged noodles, but somehow, Neal thinks he’ll survive the indecency of not cooking from scratch for one, stupid, bad day.

 

He makes a mental note to check on Eggsy tomorrow. He just can't being himself to do it right now.

 

* * *

 

Turns out Eggsy’s mother is pregnant. That’s why he wasn’t there yesterday.

 

Now, the boy’s crying his eyes out in that one particularly uncomfortable armchair and Neal has _no idea what to do_. Comforting the kid is easy enough; a mug of hot cocoa, a lot of tissues and a hug did the trick and now the crying’s been reduced to sniffles- but about _the pregnancy_.

 

Neal runs through the situation in his mind at a million miles an hour. Dean Baker’s not gonna do jackshit about his kid, but he’s probably not going to let Eggsy’s mother or the baby escape his household either. Neal can already tell that Eggsy’s completely in love with, if not ninety-nine percent terrified of, the thought of a younger sibling, so he’ll most likely escape with the kid himself if anything happens, so _Neal_ needs to be prepared for that possible scenario. He’ll most likely be the one that Eggsy will go to, probably because he’s the only responsible adult Eggsy even knows.

 

But Neal’s going to have to leave sooner or later; probably sooner. Burke the Jerk’s still out for his ass and he really doesn’t want Eggsy to get caught in the crossfire. He has a stinking suspicion that Interpol will _really_ do whatever it takes to get him taken in, even if Burke’s moral compass is unwaveringly in the right direction. Burke: 1, Interpol: 0 in the game of decency, but it still doesn’t change the fact that Burke _is_ a Jerk and he'd be doing the world a real favour if he wasn’t so obsessed with catching Neal Caffrey. There are two kids who need him now.

 

But everything boils down to one thing: if everything goes wrong that _can_ go wrong for Neal, and it _will_ , he needs to get Eggsy and Mozzie in-touch with each other.

 

And fast.

 

* * *

 

Three days later, a British Airways flight touches down at London Heathrow Airport. Neal is there to meet it. He carefully hides his face from the three CCTV cameras he knows are there, and patiently waits for his best friend in the entire world to come through the goddamn gate.

 

“What I like to drink most is wine that belongs to others.” A familiar voice quotes to him.

 

Neal grins, but quickly puts on a faux-impressed face. “And finally! He correctly quotes Diogenes to me.”

 

Mozzie grins right back. “Well, it seemed suitable for the situation, _mon frère_.”

 

“Ah, of course; if the shoe fits…” Neal teases. “I’ve got a bottle of wine with your name on it waiting at home, my friend.”

 

“Home?” Mozzie asks, slightly incredulous. Neal tenses up involuntarily. “Let’s hope you’re not planning on staying in this city, I can already _feel_ the grime of pollution sinking into my skin.”

 

Thankfully, he doesn’t say any more on the subject. Neal can feel that sinking feeling in his stomach again. He _really_ doesn’t want to know what it is this time.

 

* * *

 

“Hey bruv!” Eggsy’s voice calls to him from the kitchen.

 

Mozzie startles. “Is this the _boy_?” He hisses nervously. Neal chuckles, “He doesn’t _bite_ , Moz. Chill out.”

 

“Is this your friend?” A little blonde head comes bouncing in. “Nice to meetcha. I’m Eggsy. Unwin.” He sticks a hand out to shake. Neal thanks whatever deity is out there that the kid’s hand isn’t covered in whatever he was trying to cook.

 

Mozzie delicately shakes the hand offered and snatches his own away after the minimal amount of time required for social niceties, wiping it not-so-discretely on his trousers. Eggsy notices, looking amused rather than offended.

 

“Hello, small child. I am Theodore Winters, but you may address me as ‘Mozzie’.” Neal’s oldest friend says in a high-pitched voice with a hand on his lapel. Eggsy laughs, greeting Mozzie again now that he knows his name.

 

“Hey, I heated up that pasta. Hope you don’t mind, old man.” The kid throws over his shoulder as he skips back to the kitchen to retrieve his food.

 

“Watch who you’re callin’ old!” Neal shouts back, not even offended and not bothering to conceal the amusement in his voice. Mozzie laughs too, quietly reminding Neal of that one time a couple years back when he found a gray hair in Neal’s dark locks.

 

Eggsy finds them locked in a heated staring contest when he comes back, simply reclining on the sofa cushions and enjoying the show.

 

Neal breaks the silence with a bark of laughter, feeling an odd bubble of contentment rise in his stomach. He really wouldn’t mind coming back to this every day.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, a grave air settles over the apartment. Eggsy’s gone back to his own flat to take care of his mother and now it’s just Neal and Moz, getting down to business.

 

“The feds are onto you, Neal.” Mozzie says. He doesn’t pull any punches.

 

Neal sighs heavily. “I thought so. It’s a miracle I’ve been able to stay this long, but I really don’t want to leave him like this.”

 

“Well, that’s why you brought me in, isn’t it, _mon frère_?” Mozzie smiles weakly. “I like him.”

 

Neal smiles back. “I knew you would. He’s got this _charm_ , doesn’t he?”

 

Mozzie hums. “Reminds me of you, actually.”

 

Neal puffs up proudly. “He does, doesn’t he?” But he deflates. “I gotta make a run for it soon, Moz. Can I trust you to get him out of whatever trouble he’s in?”

 

“You can always trust me, Neal. You know that.”

 

* * *

 

Neal didn’t intend to leave for another week or so, but he catches a glimpse of Interpol agents walking around the estates and he knows there’s only a small window of time left.

 

He’s on the feds’ watchlist, but Mozzie isn’t, and that’s to their advantage right now. Neal hasn’t been caught with Mozzie, not once, in his entire career, and he isn’t going to start now.

 

He just has to trust that Mozzie will take care of Eggsy since it isn’t safe for Neal to anymore.

 

Neal Caffrey leaves London that night without a goodbye. He can feel his heart try to stretch out to wherever Eggsy is, but he can't go back; not without dire consequences for the both of them. He doesn't even know if he'll get see that kid again in his entire life. He doesn't know whether London is blacklisted now that he's stayed there for so long. He can't even decide if it was a mistake or not; but Eggsy, even in his mind's eye,  _refuses_ to be labelled as a  _mistake_.

 

Neal doesn't know if he can even think about it for any longer. He's leaving London, leaving _Eggsy_ , without knowing if he can come back. 

 

* * *

 

A little blond boy comes back an empty apartment, apart from a note on that one armchair. Absently, he wonders if it was on purpose as he can physically feel his stomach hollowing. 

 

_We had to go. Call me if you need me. Mozzie._

 

Something has happened and Eggsy has  _no idea what it was_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> decided to split this into two sections since there was kinda a massive time jump between them. sorry to keep everyone waiting for so long, but here it is- a completed short story coming to you in two parts
> 
> see y'all in a couple of weeks!

**Author's Note:**

> yes/no/maybe so?


End file.
